


Wonder

by Justabibliophile



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: A way to explore the whole Phantom situation from an outside perspective, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29025483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justabibliophile/pseuds/Justabibliophile
Summary: What was Meg thinking when she found the Phantom's mask?
Kudos: 4





	Wonder

At first, Meg thought she was too late.

There had been many events which frightened her during her time living under the Phantom's reign of terror, but none had affected her as much as her best friend being kidnapped off the stage. It had happened so quickly. One minute, Christine was standing before the Phantom, and the next he was unmasked, the two of them disappearing, a dead body being revealed backstage.

Of course, Meg had volunteered to go with Raoul on his mission to rescue Christine, but her Madame Giry stopped her. She was unable to stop her from joining the mob that followed, however, but the fact that her mother hadn't wanted her to go worried Meg even more.

No, she told herself. I'm going to be alright. I'm going to find them...

Except it didn't seem like that was true. The mob had managed to find the Phantom's lair, but there was no reward for their efforts. Yes, there were many significant things about the lair to take note of: the organ, the lake, the boat, but no people. And certainly no opera ghost.

The steady drumbeat of stress pounding through Meg's heart intensified. What did this mean? How could they have managed to escape the prying eyes of this many people? The only explanations she could think of gave her little comfort: perhaps the Phantom had taken Christine and Raoul somewhere else against the will, or worse, perhaps he had murdered them. And perhaps she could have stopped it if it wasn't for her mother...

The desperation was dizzying, but it let Meg weave her way through the crowd until she was far ahead of everyone else. That was when she found the most noteworthy thing that would come of their search.

Meg's first thought was that this had to be the lasso lying on the ground. The very same lasso that her mother had warned Raoul of. But her attention fell on another object, one that belonged to the same person. A mask.

Meg's eyes darted around to make sure that the Phantom wasn't about to come for her. But her fears faded away in seconds. The lair was just as empty as it had been before. Except for that mask.

There was an oddly confused air to it, sitting there all alone. Why wasn't it with the Phantom? There wasn't much of a point in wearing it since his face had been exposed to everyone, but he would have at least kept it with him, right? Now that she thought about it, hadn't Christine been the one holding it when Meg last saw her?

She was sure there were others starting to enter now, but they didn't matter to her now. What mattered was the mask. Before she knew it, Meg found herself falling to her knees and reaching for it.

It was surprisingly smooth under her fingers despite its worn appearance. So worn that it must have been used by the Phantom for quite a lot of time. Which should have been obvious enough considering his face, but this didn't fully set in for Meg until now. Had his skin touched this unfeeling scrap of clothing more than it had ever touched sunlight? What would it be like to live that way?

She mentally scolded herself. How much could one possibly deduce from a simple mask?

Nothing, or maybe a little if she was being generous. However, she just couldn't help herself. It was like that cursed night at the masquerade ball when the Phantom had made his entrance. Although Christine had told Meg of how much she feared him, she'd still walked towards him that night in an almost hypnotized manner. Although this had puzzled Meg at the time, she was starting to experience the same feeling now. Something in her was inexplicably drawn to the mask, tugging her closer and closer. Was it curiosity? Wonder?

Meg abruptly put the mask down as if it had stung her. No, not wonder.

One of the reasons Meg had befriended Christine was because both of them often had their head stuck in the clouds, as many people had pointed out. But this daydreaming had brought Christine trouble, and Meg could say the same. That said, she'd never gotten the chance to make such a mistake. Not with her mother. Madame Giry was not the kind of person who let Meg's mind float farther than it needed to go. Not in every respect, but certainly when it came to matters involving the Phantom of the Opera.

Meg had brought him up to her when the rumors at the opera house first began to spread. Stories of this mysterious ghost who lived down below and caused chaos wherever he went if he wasn't appeased. Really, she saw it as much more of a silly tale than anything else, but her mother did not agree. She shut Meg's questions down with a harsh rebuke, demanding that she never talk about or even think about the rumors. Meg was a mischievous girl, yes, but she had never seen her mother angry. She made the vow to not wonder anymore.

Yet sometimes those urges came up. Like when Meg noticed that it always seemed to be her mother who had the Phantom's letters. When she asked if this was true and why, she was once again shut down. Except this time, it wasn't just anger. There was more to her mother's gaze. A haunted, forlorn look that vanished just as quickly as it came.

Meg would have asked about it, except that her mother's next words were not shouts, but a simple plea to leave it alone. So Meg did not speak, and she did not wonder.

Then the problems kept mounting. A set piece almost crushing the lead soprano. Threatening notes from the Phantom, and most of them concerning Christine. But what stuck out to Meg most was the rumors Buquet would taunt her and her fellow dancers with. Nauseating descriptions of the Phantom's face that would turn their conversations into screams.

Yet somehow, Meg wasn't scared. At least, not in the way she thought she would be. Although she did fear the Phantom, what she feared even more was the life he was living. To be born with such a deformity had to be more painful than she could imagine. Finding acceptance would be impossible. Did the Phantom really deserve to have such rumors spread about him?

It was a question that stayed in Meg's mind for a while. But when Buquet dropped from the ceiling with a rope around his neck, Meg stopped wondering.

And now here she was, with her head on the clouds even though she knew what kind of trouble it could bring. She pulled herself back into reality and continued to search with the mob for some sort of clue as to Christine and Raoul's whereabouts. She needed it. After all, her best friend had been kidnapped by a monster. From his chilling appearance at the masquerade ball to his heartless murder of Piangi, there was nothing else to call him.

But no matter how hard they searched, the mob couldn't find anyone. People were beginning to file out, and although Meg stayed longer than the others, she soon realized there was no point as well.

Still, she couldn't help but hold onto the mask as she left.

The worry that overtook Meg after that was agonizing. She imagined the suffering Christine and Raoul might have gone through and had to keep herself from crying. But luckily, soon after Meg left the lair, Madame Giry ran up to her. She held her in her arms and whispered that Christine and Raoul had been found, and they were alright.

Meg almost melted with relief. She clung into her mother, grinning brightly enough to hurt her cheeks. "And they're unharmed?"

"It seems so," her mother replied. Despite this, her voice broke. "If anything had happened, and it was my fault I didn't…"

"It's alright," Meg replied. While she'd been upset about this before, it didn't matter now that she knew they had survived. "But what happened? How did they make it out?" Her lip trembled. "What's the Phantom going to do now?"

Her mother's arms slackened a bit. "Don't be afraid," she murmured. Except it was hard for Meg to not be afraid when her mother's voice had lost some of its comfort. "The Phantom won't be bothering us anymore."

"Why?" Meg asked. "Was he killed?" And did she care?

"No."

"But then how were they able to leave?"

Silence followed.

"Mother," Meg said. "How were they-?"

"They didn't need to hurt him." Her mother pulled away, that familiar haunted look pulling her features down. "He let them go."

Of the many surprises Meg had seen in her life, this had to be one of the biggest. "He...what?"

"He let them go." Her mother frowned. "I don't want to discuss it more, Meg. It's been a long enough day."

"But why?"

A sigh was all she got as an answer. After a moment, she was also provided with a "They wouldn't say," before her mother turned around and left her alone.

Meg didn't stop her. Her mind was refusing to work. This didn't make sense. The Phantom was as much of a monster on the inside as he was on the outside. He scared Meg out of her wits. He kidnapped her best friend.

And yet…

It happened too fast for Meg to comprehend. All she knew was that she found herself searching for it again, for the mask that she had opted to keep after leaving the lair. Although the man had changed so drastically, the mask hadn't. It was still smooth in her hands. Worn, lonely.

And for the first time, Meg wondered.


End file.
